


Listen to the Man

by Negantivity



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Eventual Smut, F/M, Focus on Character Development, More Characters Along the Way - Freeform, Negan Being a Dipshit, Romance, Some Fluff, Strong Language, Unorthodox Reader, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-29 16:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8497369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Negantivity/pseuds/Negantivity
Summary: A depiction of what could happen if you reached Alexandria two weeks prior to the Negan incident. And how you would cope with what comes next.  It's not a lovey dovey story, at least not in the beginning, and will have a pretty slow pace.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me if you see any errors! I don't have a beta reader and I might miss some stuff. <3 Thank you for reading!

It had been about two weeks now. Since you had walked the road, passed countless abandoned cars, wandering undead… and stumbled upon Alexandria. Obviously, your first instinct told you to get to cover, watch the place until you knew exactly what you were dealing with, but before you could even try it, a couple of guards in the watchtowers stopped you. They asked who you were, why you were there and your name. You had frozen in one place, staring at them with complete bewilderment. Again, they demanded a response, threatening to shoot you if you did not do so. After a slight pause, you answered, keeping your voice just loud enough for them to hear. Your throat had been dry, sore from the lack of moisture, and you were certain that if you even so much as stressed your vocal chords, they’d snap like the strings of a guitar. You were a lone wanderer, seeking out food and shelter and you had not expected to find this place. You were simply following a path.

The answer had pleased the guards and they opened the gate, welcoming you by the name you had given them. You stood there for some time, thumbing the handle of your bloodied bat as you considered the possibility of a trap, yet the churning of your empty stomach and the weight of your shoulders urged you to just get on with it. And so, you did, stepping into a completely new world.

Since then, you had met Rick Grimes, the leader of their community. As well as Glenn, his wife Maggie, Abraham, Eugene, the distant Daryl and many others. The group was so diverse that you had no trouble remembering their names, despite being obviously worn from all your travels. Mentally scathed. While at first you felt like an outsider, anxious to even ask for food or water, Rick helped you feel welcome. He was the first so-called friend you gained in Alexandria, and soon others followed, learning of your story while you listened to theirs. In fact, you had become a sort of a listener amongst them, soothing people as they freed themselves of their worries.

Rick was the most closed off, the tough cookie to crack. He was so focused on being a good leader that he had lost his humanity, suppressed his emotions into the back of his head until they exploded in violent outbursts. Or so you believed, watching him from time to time from afar. You knew that Alexandria had endured something intense just recently, you could tell just by looking at the wounded people around you. Carl, his son, had a patch on his eye. Something told you it wasn’t just a cut, but you weren’t stupid enough to ask.

You helped out, at first by doing simple tasks, counting food, supplies and guns. Then you guarded the walls, listening to Abraham and Eugene discuss matters that honestly seemed amusing to you. But a time had come when you no longer felt like your skills would be in full use doing the jobs that you did. You were a survivor, you knew how to hide, how to handle walkers. You knew where to look for things. In didn’t take long to persuade Rick to allow you to go on runs, being as persistent as you were. But you wanted to go alone. And that was something the man was very reluctant to permit. He had begun to see you as a friend, he relied on you to comfort people, give them advice. And if something were to happen to you… The morale would be shattered. At least, that was your reasoning for why he didn’t want you to go.

Still, after a few more pushes, he cracked. You had become Alexandria’s lonesome scout, even when Daryl had chosen comrades to travel with. The only condition was that you couldn’t go too far, an hour on foot in all directions. It was enough for you. You wanted to help, but knew that you’d do better on your own. Stealthy, quick and easy. Your life had finally settled the way you wanted it to and you weren’t going to change that anytime soon.

Today, you were going to take care of Judith. Some stuff had gone down in the past few days and you were one of the only people to stay back at home. Glenn, Michonne, Daryl and Rosita were missing after having some sort of conflict. Carol was gone too. Morgan was still out looking for her, while, thankfully, Rick came back to watch over the community. Not for long, however. Maggie was sick and so Rick had taken a lot of the people, along with Carl and most of the better fighters, to Hilltop. The only ones left were you, Gabriel and Spencer, as well as some others.

It was still early morning when you woke from a steady night of sleep, checking the clock on your bedside table to see just how much time had passed since the team left for Hilltop. Almost an entire day had gone by and they still weren’t back. Well, it wasn’t that surprising, considering just how bad Maggie looked before leaving. You lazily slipped out from under the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to keep your eyes apart for longer than a second. A yawn inevitably followed, forcing your body to ease as you slumped forward. Judith had obviously woken up, little noises that sounded like drool being gurgled reaching your eats. You weren’t a big fan of children, let alone pregnant women – which was another reason why you had decided not to go, aside from wanting to keep an eye on Alexandria.

At last, you rose up and stretched, breathing out deeply as you looked past the window and outside. It was a little too cold this early in the morning and you weren’t very eager to go out just yet. Instead, you walked up to the crib just by the wall and peeked inside, your lips tugging into a smile at the sight of Judith sucking her hand.

“Hey, sweetie… Let’s get you something to eat,” you murmured softly, picking her up with utmost care. She cooed at you and you pressed her gently to your chest, taking a blanket from the crib and wrapping it around her body for warmth. The baby was growing fast, soon to be a toddler and you weren’t sure how easy it would be to carry her around. Before you headed downstairs, you made sure to change clothes, putting on a body fitting white, long sleeved shirt and pale blue jeans, along with a pair of sneakers you had found.

Once you had found your way to the kitchen, you placed Judith into a highchair, then scoured the cupboard for any baby food that might have been left. And by baby food, you really only meant mushy food that was easy to consume, but you’d love to taste yourself. You caught sight of a tiny jar with apple puree in it and grabbed it, skilfully opening the container while Judith watched you. Once the lid was off, you turned to face her and used a spoon to get a small amount out, bringing it to your nose to make sure it smelled right. And oh, it did. You took a small bite, smacking your lips as you awaited the taste to hit you. And just then, your expression twisted into one of disgust, a gag escaping your throat as you shuddered. Judith giggled, for some reason very amused at the faces you made, tapping the little flat surface in front of her with her tiny hands.

“Alright, it’s all yours,” you winced. “I’m never trying this stuff again.”

Afterwards, you took your time to feed Judith, doing your best to ignore the mess she had made on the highchair. Moments like these made you feel like the rest of the world just didn’t exist, that you were back at home, with your mom and dad at work, just taking care of your baby sister. Only when you looked outside would you notice the hints of an apocalypse, the walls in the distance, remnants of blood and old, unmowed lawns.

Once the baby had eaten and refused to take anymore apple goo into her mouth, you cleaned her up and bundled her in the blanket once more, only to flinch as yells outside sounded out. Carefully, you approached the window and tilted your head to face the gate, watching as it was opened and the RV drove in. Excitement rushed through you, images of your smiling friends flashing in your mind. You took no time to pull Judith closer and opened the door, stepping outside and pacing towards the vehicle quickly.

Your run came to a sudden halt when you saw the RV open. Rick stepped out of it, his heavy feet barely finding the ground as he refused to look up. Blood covered his entire upper half, some dripping off his face. That was when you noticed the empty stare, his parted lips and glassy eyes. Your first thought was that something had happened to Maggie, but… all this blood… Your heart began to race as you looked at the door once more, watching as Eugene, Sasha, Rosita and others stepped out, similar expressions on their faces. Your hold on Judith tightened, your own lips quivering and opening as you began to breathe deeply. Tears threatened to leave your eyes, but you refused to let it happen. Not in front of these broken people, who needed support now more than ever.

As you stared at them, hoping for anything more than what you saw, Rick looked up and met your eyes. The blankness that was just in his gaze turned into a spark of anxiety, then distress. His shoulders sagged as he began to come closer, reaching for what you could now see to be Judith. You chewed the inside of your cheek, smiling despite the fright in your chest, and met Rick halfway. Rather than just take the baby, as you had expected, his arms flung around you and pulled you into a tight hug, the man’s quivering breaths finding your neck as he hid his face from everyone else.

“It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay…” You ushered, not really knowing whether your words meant anything. Probably not. But you nudged your chin against his shoulder and made sure he knew you were there, that you had protected his child, that you would do it again and again if that’s what it took. He did not say anything, barely withholding the sobs that you could hear so well.

Later on in the day you had overheard the whole story from the survivors of the incident. How Glenn and Abraham were dead, their heads smashed to nothing by a guy called Negan. How he threatened the community of Alexandria, demanded half of their “everything”. How Rick was broken, taken away somewhere in the very same RV and then forced to try and chop off his son’s arm. And all of this was because Rick had decided to attack a group called the Saviors not too long ago. You could only imagine how hard the man must’ve been beating himself up.

Apparently, afterwards Maggie took Michonne with her and continued to Hilltop, while the others came back home. All of this information was tough to accept in one swoop, but no one would tell you the story twice. It was difficult on all of them, and you were still relatively new. You could never comprehend the amount of pain they felt. Judith remained with you after the meeting, seeing as Rick could barely talk or do anything. You were sure that this would not be something that passed quickly, anyhow.

It was already night time. Time had passed very quickly, most of it consumed by pondering over what had happened and how you could help. You had no clear idea of what to do, especially after finding out that Daryl was taken as a hostage. Fighting would do little good.

As water poured against your face, heating your chilled flesh, you sighed gently and turned around. You had thought that a shower would help take your mind off of things, but it only gave you more chances to remember and think. Imagine it all. You pushed a hand through your hair, nudging it away from your eyes as they opened. This wouldn’t end just like that. There would be more, in time. A struggle that would surely cost more lives. But not yet.

After a few more moments, you shut down the water and stepped outside the shower, taking in your image in the mirror ahead. Your body was nice, curved in all the right places, but that didn’t mean you didn’t notice the scars here and there. You did not stare long, once more recalling the day’s events, then picked up a towel and rubbed it around your head, drying the wet strands. For some reason, the moment you remembered best was the feeling of arms around your frame, the feeling of someone so strong and powerful crying against you. A bump in your chest told you that the emotion was not only of sorrow and pain, but also of budding adoration.

Which was… complicated. Certainly, Rick had been a friend to you longer than anyone else after the world had gone to hell, but… He had begun a life with Michonne. And you were immensely happy for them. Carl was happy too and she took care of Judith better than even you could, or so you told yourself. Jealousy was not something you were worried about, because you were a reasonable adult. Right?

You turned your head to look in the mirror once more, bringing the towel around your body and soaking up the leftover water. You saw how your ever present smile dimmed, an ache developing in your chest. How selfish, to think of such things when all had gone to hell. With a deep sigh, you shook the feeling off and put aside the towel, then grabbed your clothes, which consisted of a simple shirt and shorts. In a mere minute, you were dressed and prepared to go take care of Judith before you head to bed.

However, when you stepped outside the bathroom, you heard Judith cooing and a soft usher, all downstairs. And last you remembered, the baby was safely resting in the crib, in your bedroom. Immediately, you sneaked to your bedroom and grabbed the bat that was resting by your door, then began to walk downstairs, making sure to create as little noise as possible. As the living room came into view, you realized that someone was sitting on the couch, although it was hard to distinct exactly who in the darkness. Figuring that there was no use in stalling, you slammed your hand against the light switch and raised your bat up.

“Place the baby on the couch and st—Rick?” You began roughly, only to cut yourself short. The man stood up carefully and mumbled ‘whoa’ a few times, still holding Judith in his arms. He seemed to be rocking her gently and you realized she had fallen asleep once more. You released an exasperated sigh and placed the bat down, pushing a hand up to your forehead. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, I just… I couldn’t sleep,” Rick mumbled, keeping his voice low as he stared your way. You saw his eyes move to your hair, then to the bat you had just held. His body tensed for a second, then, as he glanced back at your face, he eased. “Did I interrupt your shower?”

“No, I was just about done,” you explained, fidgeting slightly with the end of your shirt. “I heard Judith and… assumed the worst. Sorry.”

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her,” he spoke, peeking down at his baby girl. He looked better than he had in the morning, but there was still a trace of distress in his tone and expression.

You only nodded in response and watched the parent and the child interact, your arms moving to cross as words formed in your head. It would need to be out in the open at some point, if not now.

“It’s not your fault, Rick,” you stepped closer, determined to make him see and understand you. He only glanced up, his gaze scattered as he sought out a response in his head. “What happened… It couldn’t have been avoided. None of it.”

“If I had been smarter, accepted the deal and then thought of a plan, maybe—“

“No. It all would lead to this. This… Negan, would have found Alexandria, he would’ve made a scene and killed someone either way. You know this.”

A pause lingered between the two of you, looks being shared that couldn’t easily be deciphered. Rick looked down at Judith yet again, hiding something in his eyes. This was hurting him, the confrontation, the fact that he needed to accept the situation, ride it out as he normally would.

“Alexandria needs its leader back,” you continued, taking one step closer and trying to catch his gaze. “Without someone to guide everyone, the chance of ever defeating Negan is gone. And we have to get Daryl back. To make sure this doesn’t happen ever again.”

“Daryl punched Negan. And then Negan very plainly told me that if I try to fight back, Daryl would die. All of us would.”

“It’s not his fault either—“

“I know.”

Silence, again. You looked away and felt your fingers tense up, curling into fists as both fear and frustration threatened to overtake you. The whirlwind of emotions that had stirred from this bullshit encounter with Negan was a lot more than you were used to and you weren’t certain how long you’d be able to stay strong. For Rick and for everyone else.

“I will figure something out, I promise,” Rick finally murmured, turning to face you entirely. When you looked his way, your eyes widened at the shockingly powerful feeling radiating from him, the way his eyes pierced you as if you were transparent. Confused, you blinked once, your lips tightening as your heart began to thud.

“You… should go home and rest…” You managed to blurt out, lifting a hand to rub at your temple gingerly. You were nervous, uncertain of what you wanted to do, say. And his presence was continuously making you even more flustered, which was not something you wanted him to see. It was your own fault for having a soft heart and allowing someone to breach it, even if a little.

Rick nodded once and readjusted his grasp on Judith, making sure she was secure in his arms before turning towards the door. He began to walk away and you watched his back, growing more anxious as he neared the exit. Something felt off, it felt incomplete. If you knew you could die tomorrow, this would not satisfy you. And that was all that you needed.

“Wait!”

The man froze in his tracks and turned to you, one eyebrow lifted as he stared your way. Completely ignorant to your inner struggle. You approached him quickly, taking up no more of his time than needed, knowing that he probably needed to rest and go back to his leadership duties in the morning. But…

You cupped his jaw with one hand and leaned in, tilting his head as you placed a tender kiss to his scruffy cheek.

The moment lingered, long enough for you to feel his warmth and the pulse beneath your fingertips. Then you pulled back, smiling comfortingly. He stared at you, not in shock, not with anger, but contemplation. Just for a second, you swear you saw him jerk in your direction, but he then turned his head from one side to the other and tightened his lips, obviously fighting himself. Was he upset?

“Be safe and rest well,” you patted him on the shoulder, relieving him of any ideas that might have risen in his mind. Easier that way. Plus, he didn’t need any more shit to think about. Your expression showed no signs of intimacy or hurt, just the usual friendly demeanour. Finally, Rick nodded quickly and turned yet again for the door, leaving you alone in your house as the door clicked shut behind him.

After a few minutes of waiting, you just about collapsed to the floor, breathing out deeply as you cursed quietly. What the hell was that?! Why did you do that? You bit your lip and shook your head, refusing to accept that kind of behaviour. Rick didn’t need this right now and you were smarter than to let it happen. Frustrated, you headed to bed and hoped that sleep would bring a better tomorrow, one in which you could apologize to your leader for acting out.

The next morning came fast, much so because you no longer had to be woken up by Judith in the middle of the night. You had slept well, aside from a few tosses and turns due to the incident, but your mind was somewhat clear. You put on a dark tank top and jeans, squirmed into a pair of your best boots and grabbed your favorite bomber jacket. The idea for today was that you’d jump by Rick’s place, tell him that what happened was fully platonic, then head out past the walls and scavenge for supplies until your embarrassment was fully gone.

With that thought, you made sure to grab the holster for your gun and sneak it under your jacket, in case things went wrong at some point. However, as you were doing that, you noticed a dark stain on your bag, right where one of the pockets were. You tilted your head and squinted, then dug your hand into the pocket, trying to see what the hell happened. What you caught was a broken little vial and a lot of liquid surrounding it. It was that damn sample of perfume Michonne had found and gifted to you a while back. You had completely forgotten about it.

“Fuuuck…” You groaned as you took your hand out and watched the perfume drip down your palm, making the whole bedroom smell like a billionaire’s wife. It wasn’t bad, it was just… strong. Hesitant to waste something that you had hoped to use later on, you rubbed what was left of the perfume on your neck and clothes, soon realizing that doing so wouldn’t make you any safer out in the forest full of walkers. Another irritated groan and you rubbed your hands instead, heading towards the door in hopes of escaping this hell you were stuck in.

In just moments, you were outside your house and looking in both directions, wondering where most of the people had gone to. They should’ve been out and about by this time, at least the kids. You had sort of slept in, too. Deciding to just head for the armory and get your gear for the trip, you began walking down one of the paths, glancing around the area in case you saw someone. By the time you had nearly approached the end place, you saw Spencer rushing outside and heading in your direction.

“Hey, you okay?” You called out, staring at him as he came closer and closer. The young man just looked you over quickly, then glanced back at the building he had left, before turning to you again.

“Did you just wake up? You didn’t hear any of that shit going on?!” He snapped at you, now obviously upset. You just lifted your hands up defensively and stepped to his side, showing that you were going the way that he had just come from.

“I’m sorry, I was tired and I didn’t get woken up— Did something happen or…?” You were growing more impatient by the second, thinking of scenarios that could make Spencer squirm this much. And none of them were good. He just pointed to the building and continued to run past you, refusing to even humor you with a proper answer. Asshole.

You paced on ahead from this point, but made sure to stay quiet, in case things got grim. As you got closer, you could hear a voice talking. It wasn’t anyhow familiar, so your suspicions grew stronger, yet you were completely defenceless. You saw the open door and carefully stepped inside, ready to hide if what you saw was not to your liking. The voice was clear now, belonging to a man and fairly deep. The impression was that he was not someone to be fucked with, even though you couldn’t exactly hear what he was saying. From where you stood, you could see about three men checking out the food shelves, two more looking through the gun selection. So you had no chance of taking your pistol if these were truly outsiders looking for a fight.

Silently, you came closer, making sure not to cross the path of the guards in the other two areas. You were only interested in the voice talking, knowing that whoever he was speaking to was one of your own. And, at last, you did see what you had been looking for. The two were sitting outside in the backyard, by the small round table, a large jug of lemonade in between them. One of the people was Olivia, stiff as one could imaginably be in such a situation. The other… He wore a leather jacket, a red scarf poking out and around his neck from it. His face was turned to Olivia, but even from there you could tell that he had features that stood out from the norm. Perhaps what disturbed you most and made you freeze in your spot was his grin, unrelenting despite Olivia’s discomfort.

You shuddered, eyes widening at the realization that this could be the infamous Negan. Your gaze jumped around the area and you found the item that would reaffirm your suspicion – the bat with barbed wire around it. It was leaning against the chair the man was sitting on. Before you could react, a strong nudge to your back made you stumble forwards and crash against the ground, cursing aloud as chuckles erupted behind you. You had been found out. And the boss man was now looking at you, meeting your eyes as you stared up at him.

It was silent for a good while, something incredibly aggressive and dark in the way he looked at you. You slowly rose up to your knees, but before you could actually stand, the way he sharply tilted his head told you not to move. You stilled and tightened your lips, fists clenching tightly as Olivia whimpered pitifully. She thought you would be hurt, you could sense it. This was the man you were dealing with. That Rick was dealing with.

“I haven’t seen you before,” Negan continued to smile even as he spoke, his eyes showing little actual amusement. “I would love a fucking introduction.”


	2. Meeting The Man

It felt as if time itself had stopped, only you and Negan trapped inside a bubble. You were scared to move your gaze from him, expecting the bat in your face the moment you did. And then, he finally shifted his eyes, positioning them onto Olivia instead. The poor girl was whimpering, terrified by the idea that another one of her people would be brutally murdered, that she would have to live with the memory for the rest of her days. You swallowed some built up saliva in your mouth and licked your lips, hoping that you could somehow free her from this situation. But no idea that entered your mind would end well, you were certain.

“Sweetheart, do you mind…?” The man nudged his head towards the chair Olivia sat in, as if telling her to excuse herself. She nodded quickly and jolted from her seat, fidgeting for a moment in her spot.

“Go on, go,” Negan commanded, his tone growing deeper as he stared at her, the intensity visible even from where you kneeled. You gave a look at the girl and she returned it, mouthing a ‘sorry’ apologetically before leaving the area, past the guards that still watched you.

Again, you were alone with a bunch of strangers, one of which seemed to be immensely interested in you. And it just so turned out that he was the implied leader of their group, if not community. You were hesitant to look directly at him, your gaze flickering from his leather jacket to his bat. Your heart was pounding in your chest, so tight that you swore it could burst at the slightest bump. Sweat had begun to build up beneath the layers of your clothing, yet you remained still, only trembling lightly when your emotions spiked.

“I asked you nicely to introduce yourself and, believe me, I will not ask twice,” he spoke aloud, his voice evoking a small flinch from your body.

Careful not to rub him the wrong way, you glanced up, slowly making your way up the zipper of his jacket to his eyes. The moment you met them once more, anxiety flushed over you, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt. He was undeniably… attractive, but all that mattered so little now that you knew just how terrifying he could be. If this is how Rick had felt, you understood in full extent just why the incident was so traumatic. And it had only been a few minutes.

“I’m… Y/N,” you began, voice abnormally low. “I’m just someone that goes on supply runs—“

“I didn’t ask what you do, I don’t give a fuck.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and lowered your gaze, shuddering as you released a deep breath. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Negan stand up, the bat rising with him as he stepped closer. His presence was enough to make anyone want to jump out of their skin, but you would have to endure his questioning and possible beating too. You had no damn clue what he would do or where the rest of your people were. Maybe they were dead as well.

The thought made your lips quiver and he must’ve noticed it, because in mere moments a pair of gloved fingers were lifting your face up, forcing it to turn his way. Your eyes flared as they were made to meet his, threatening to jerk aside with each involuntary blink.

“So, you’re Y/N,” Negan spoke calmly, the grin from before returning to his lips. “Rick must really fucking like you. To leave you here like that, while they go rob your friendly neighboring communities blind.”

You blinked in surprise, not sure if what you were hearing was true or not. Sure, you had woken up on your own and heard none of the commotion, but that might’ve been just your heavy sleeper nature. You couldn’t just up and believe that your own leader would leave you behind to deal with this man, no matter how ‘safe’ it was in his mind. Unless… he wanted you to protect Judith. As you always do.

 

The part where he went to steal from other communities just kind of escaped you.

With the explanation forming in your mind, your expression dimmed to show less shock, yet Negan seemed very amused by the change.

“Don’t tell me you had no clue,” he chuckled, staring down at you as his bat playfully swung from side to side in his hand. “See… I heard your name as they were getting ready to move out. Some prick asked if you would come with, that they could use your expertise out there. Rick was oh-so-very adamant about leaving you at home and I’m pretty fucking sure it’s because you’re his pretty little pet. Are you?”

“No,” you were quick to respond. “Michonne is with… She’s at Hilltop.”

“Who the fuck is Michonne?”

You were hesitant to say anything, feeling stupid for even bringing it up in the first place. It was not right to talk about someone that important to Rick, to compromise their position in favor of gaining this maniac’s kindness. The silence, however, was enough to tell Negan everything he wanted to know. He grinned, a malicious chuckle following him as he circled you.

“Ho-ly shit, Rick! He’s got game! Not one, but two little birds in his cage. I think that’s one too many, but who am I to talk?” The man’s bat rose up to poke your shoulder, gentle in comparison to the stories you’ve heard. You looked aside and scowled soundlessly, guilt starting to brew in the back of your mind. If this continued, you’d just become another tool for Negan to abuse Rick with. And if it came to that, you would not be able to bear the shame.

Another minute of silence lingered in between the two of you as the leader of the Saviors went to get his glass of lemonade. The fact that he was so at ease around you told you of just how deeply he underestimated your capabilities. You glanced back at the house and saw that the guards from before had stopped eyeballing you and were now back to their usual snooping, checking every item as if it were their own. Hell, by now they likely were.

“You thirsty? This is some mighty fine lemonade,” Negan sipped the liquid, watching you from afar like a hawk. You moved your attention back to the man and immediately shook your head, still reluctant to speak. That seemed to displease him somewhat, his mouth puckering as he nodded to himself and placed the glass back on the table. “Not very chatty, I see.”

Was he trying to be funny?… This man had just murdered your two companions and was now attempting to make buddies. No, attempting was the wrong word – pressuring was more like it. He approached you once more, but this time he gripped the top of your jacket, pulling you upwards to stand like some disobedient child. You stumbled slightly, surprised by the sudden motion, but he quickly stabilized you, holding your arms in place firmly as his grin grew wider.

“We’re gonna go on a little trip around Alexandria,” Negan began, lifting one of his hands to brush a strand of your hair aside. “And you’re gonna be my trusty guide.” He smiled directly at you, chuckling as you furrowed your brows confusedly. The man tossed his arm around your shoulders and began leading you out of the building, ignoring his men as they ushered between themselves. You partially wanted to hear what caused such commotion in their midst, but your focus was gathered on the broken barrier of your personal space instead.

The walk was slow, quiet, intimidating. You slouched lightly under the weight of his arm, your body eager to escape the distressing situation. But as soon as you even budged, his grip tightened out of nowhere, forcing you to stay close. You glanced around and saw Spencer, staring you down from his home as if you had just betrayed his whole dead family. Immediately, your gaze moved away and locked onto the path ahead. He had no clue of what had went down and he was always quick to judge. It frustrated you now more than ever.

All of a sudden, the stroll came to a stop and you were woken from your deep thoughts, body releasing a tremor at the idea that you may have somehow angered Negan.

“Yeesh, girl,” he shifted his arm to nudge you lightly, fingers curling tighter around your shoulder. “Relax. We’re having fun here.”

His words did not put you at ease, the irony of the situation not lost on you. You could tell that the walk had been cut short and that this was no special location, just by having a quick look around. In front of you was the wall, and on it the names of your fallen comrades… A thud left your chest as you lifted a hand, rubbing your face softly. You knew what was about to be said. You had to know.

“Well, would you look at that…” Negan tilted his head, admiring the damn wall as if it was art. No sorrow, no guilt in his tone, only amusement. “That’s fresh paint right there!” He pointed with his free arm, leaning closer to your face as you tried to look away. It hurt. To know that not only did they die by the hands of this man, but that now he was treating you as a toy, making you watch him mock the monument to their death.

A moment of silence passed and he grabbed your jaw, the leather texture of his gloves already growing familiar on your senses. You were pulled to look at the writing on the wall yet again, your vision blurring as unwelcome tears rose to the surface.

“You wanna know what I see? And, trust me, I’m a fucking visionary,” he cackled out loud, finding himself very quirky probably. Your bitterness had grown deep. “I see Rick’s name here,” he ushered that part, his voice too close to your ear for comfort. “You try to run, and I’ll make sure my vision comes true. Got that, honey?”

You nodded shakily, biting your lip to suppress any whimpers or sobs that wanted to escape. He was a terrifying man. Manipulative, angry. He was a leader and yet he was nothing like Rick. Or maybe that was your broken mind speaking. You were the enemy, maybe these were just scare tactics. But why the hell did it matter? You were starting to hate him, hate his guts—

“Oh… Shit. Did I scare you?” His voice caught you off guard, your blurry eyes blinking quickly to rid themselves of the haze. “I promise, I’m not a bad guy. I am only doing what’s best for my people. And, hell, maybe one day you will be one of my people too.”

You jerked your head to glare at him, an intense rage burning inside of you. You must’ve looked like a kicked puppy though, because Negan only snorted, a grin following what could’ve been a laugh. How he managed to defeat you so quickly was still a mystery to you, but he was no joke. He knew how to get into someone’s head. And with that, you could only further pity Rick for what had happened to him.

Not long after that moment had passed, Negan continued onwards down the path, dragging you along with him. His bat was still secure in his hand, while the other held your stiff shoulder, thumbing it idly as you went along.

“Which one of these lovely houses is yours, hm?” The man asked, probably noting how you were staring at Rick’s house. You couldn’t help but wonder where Judith was – although the answer was likely the Church. Negan was better off not knowing that.

“It’s that one.”

Your reply was simple, timid. You tilted your head in the direction of your home, hoping that the motion was enough for him to see. It was right across the street of where Rick’s house was. The other houses belonged to the rest of the Alexandrians, although you hadn’t gotten to visit many yet. Two weeks is a relatively short time.

“Good girl!” Negan seemed genuinely happy at your open response, tapping your shoulder giddily as he then continued to walk you with him, bringing you towards your own house. The closer you got, the more tense you grew, not fully understanding why he would want to take you there. Many ideas spun in your head, but none seemed to fit the personality he displayed.

As soon as you had reached the door, he shoved you towards it and tapped his bat on the wooden floor of the porch. Your hands were unsteady, but you managed to open the door and stayed still, knowing that if you went inside first, he’d suspect you wanting to hide. If there was even a chance that he could hurt someone because of your actions, you’d make sure to abide his every rule. You didn’t want any more guilt weighing you down.

That seemed to appease Negan, his pace slow as he stepped inside and inspected the surroundings. You followed, closing the door behind you as quietly as you could. His footsteps practically rang in your ears as he traversed around the living room, his bat running along the floor, the fabric of the couch, lifting all the way onto his shoulder. From the back, he almost seemed like a passing nightmare – but then just as you thought that, he glanced back, making you feel as if he could read your damn mind. That was more terrifying than any word that came out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna be resting here tonight,” he proclaimed, tapping the bat on the couch once more. Your eyes widened, glancing over to the mentioned piece of furniture. Was this his game all along? Terrorize you then sleep in your home, to further break whatever was left of your resolve? Negan stepped closer to you and tilted his head to the side, smiling wickedly as he admired your expression.

“Whether you know it or not, you are a very crucial part of Rick’s little operation—And I? I want in on it,” he leaned closer, his eyes flicking from your own to your lips, then back up. “So, please, be fucking patient. I’ll be a good guest.”

With that, Negan lifted his brows, tugging his smile wider as he turned and circled the couch, dropping onto it casually as his bat clunked against the floor. You just stood there dumbfounded, continuously stunned at the fact that you had barely said anything since the meeting. You knew exactly why it had to be so, however, and that alone soothed you. Your hands clasped and rubbed into one another as you looked around, unsure of what to do. Had he dismissed you? Or were you supposed to stand here until whenever?

For a few minutes, that’s exactly what you did. You kept thumbing the sleeves of your jacket and staring down at your own boots, reminiscent of a naughty toddler. The only thing that made the situation seem less ridiculous was your face, twisted with distress and uncertainty.

“Darling? The fuck are you standing there for?” His tone was as cool as usual, as if nothing had transpired that would put you in a position like that. You shook your head with frustration and bit back a curse, shifting your gaze to the ceiling.

“… You didn’t give me an order and I don’t want to mess shit up.”

More silence. That was until Negan sat up from where he laid, a bemused expression on his face. You weren’t sure whether he was actually happy or just thinking that you were a fucking idiot. Both options were equally embarrassing, to be honest.

“Well hot-fucking-damn,” the man laughed, covering his grin with a hand as he rubbed his lip thoughtfully. “I didn’t expect anyone in this shit place to be so obedient. I like that.”

Your eyes nearly rolled at how cliché that sentence sounded. Maybe it was because of all the kinky novels you had read back in the day. Or maybe you were just used to cocky assholes bossing you around when they knew nothing of what you could actually do. You shrugged almost immaturely as you sighed out, rubbing your temple gingerly while you awaited his next demand.

“Come here.”

You avoided actually looking his way as you rounded the couch and stood in front of him, arms crossed. He had casually sprawled out along the sitting area all the way to the armrest, taking up all of the space, if not dirtying it up too. He smiled at you as he tapped his lap twice, positioning in a way that made it obvious that you were supposed to… join him. You raised a brow at the motion and narrowed your eyes, not only skeptical but also insulted at how he was treating you. In your mind, of course – he didn’t need to see or know that.

“I’m not fucking around.”

Your head lowered. He really, probably, wasn’t. For a moment, you had forgotten that you were a prisoner. Of some degree, at least.

Carefully, you stepped closer and placed your knee on the edge of the couch, eyeing his position in order to see where you could possibly fit in. Every single way you considered only seemed awkward and would result in pissing Negan off in the end. God, you didn’t want to do this, you hadn’t been this close to a person since Rick hugged you the other day, this was—

You yelped as your arm was grabbed and you were pulled forwards, crashing against the bulky man unceremoniously. The first few moments were you trying to understand what had happened, pushing against the cushions of the mattress to pull yourself up a little, but as soon as you did that, you realized just how close yours and Negan’s faces were. And he was smirking. You felt yourself shrink beneath his gaze and a heat stirred in your cheeks, making you somewhat drowsy after all of the stress you endured. From this angle, he seemed even friendly.

“Done staring? Or do you wanna go further?” Negan teased, looking you up and down from where he laid. He could probably see a good portion of your back, including your ass. Ashamed at the fact that you had frozen in such a provocative situation, you shook your head adamantly and released a low, nervous chuckle. He laughed quietly in return, easing the tension somewhat, then guided you to fully relieve your body onto his. Your legs had entangled the very moment you fell onto him, but now his arms had wrapped around you as well, your cheek softly pressed against his leather jacket and a small part of his red scarf.

It was difficult to relax, but with the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear and his distinct scent, you gradually eased into the embrace. Your eyes closed, senses picking up every slight movement from the man – whether it was his gloved hands rubbing your arms or his nose gently grazing your hair. The intimacy of the moment didn’t escape you, yet the idea was too far in your mind for you to focus on it.

“You smell nice.”

“Mhm… A sample of perfume cracked in my bag, so I had to—“

You stopped, realizing that you had drifted far enough into la-la land to forget who you were cuddling with. Shit, shit, shit. Your eyes flicked upwards and you gauged the extent of the damage made – but Negan had closed his eyes, resting, much like you had just seconds ago. The sight of this ruthless killer in his standby mode softened you, whether you liked it or not, and you just returned your face to where it had been before.

“I had to use it.”

Your voice hushed completely, eyes closing as you listened to his heartbeat, allowing yours to fall into rhythm with his. Compassion was a scary thing, especially in such circumstances, but it was better to accept it than face the consequences of denying Negan’s demands. That’s what you told yourself, anyways. The truth was much simpler than that.


	3. No Escape

You were sure that at least an hour had passed since you had fallen into Negan’s arms. You were unable to fall asleep, unlike the man himself, but that was because you had a peaceful slumber the night before. It was still sunny outside, thankfully, and you assumed it was about lunch time. Your parted eyes moved from object to object in the living room, all while pondering just how you’d escape this trap you were stuck in. No, you didn’t want to disturb the man – he was a damn killer, no matter how gentle and sweet he looked at the moment. And his grip was still relatively tight, even in deep sleep.

Figuring that you’d have to move sooner or later, you first nudged your arm out, stretching it as far as you could. Once your limb was free, your body followed suit, squirming unnoticeably until you were just on the edge of the couch. Now… All you had to do was…

Your hand, which was supposed to support you, slipped on the wooden floor and you fell off Negan with a distinct thud, a low, pitiful groan escaping you as you held your side. You writhed on the ground for a bit, trying to suppress any curse words that might’ve left you, but thankfully the sensation soon passed. Flicking your gaze to the man, you checked if he had heard the commotion, however he was still resting, his lips parted as he breathed in and out softly. Great.

Quickly, you scrambled off the floor and headed for the kitchen, hoping that the distance would be enough for him not to hear every move you made. The freedom was intoxicating, a smile flashing on your lips as you sighed out, resting your palms on the counter. It wasn’t quite over yet, this imprisonment, but at least you wouldn’t have to keep tensing up every time the man’s fingers twitched the wrong way against your back.

You moved over to the window and peeked outside, hoping to see someone, as a form of reassurance that all was still okay, but no one passed by. Maybe they were barricaded in their homes, away from the Saviors. Or maybe they had all gone with Rick. The thought of your leader made your chest swell with worry, gaze lowering from the window onto the sink. Carl must’ve gone too. He was growing up fast and you were proud of him, but every time he was faced with a dangerous situation, it was as if… he accepted the threat, the danger, and awaited his demise. It angered you, much like you were sure it angered Rick. Yet there was no way to change that – that’s the effect this new world has on children.

A slight rumble from below made you snap out of your daze and you blinked once, realizing just how hungry you had become. There was little food at your home, since most of it had been tightly regulated by Olivia, but…

After a small pause, you nodded and turned towards the fridge. You were sure that there was some lasagna left from a few days back, when you had been visited by one of the local women. They were awesome cooks, you just never understood how they could find time to make food like it was Sunday dinner. Maybe cooking made them remember the old days and allowed them to forget about the cruel reality. That kind of made sense.

And, as you opened the fridge, you did indeed find the plastic container with leftovers. Excited at the discovery, you grinned and picked it up, immediately working to heat the food up in the oven. You could’ve used the microwave, but the obnoxious ‘ding’ would wake the sleeping maniac in your living room. While the lasagna baked in the oven, you went to grab some water and prepare the necessary items for your meal. If you tried hard enough, you could pretend Negan didn’t even exist – and that’s exactly what you did.

After about ten minutes, you were already sitting by the table and chowing down, your eyes wandering around in search of entertainment. Back before shit hit the fan, you would watch TV while eating or use your computer, but nowadays the best you could get was a book. Sometimes, if Judith was around, you could admire her nose picking skills. That was not the case this time around.

You shifted your sights onto the couch and narrowed your eyes, still chewing on a bite you had taken just a moment ago. Had he truly not heard you? At all? Surely he could smell the freshly heated food. You watched him cautiously, eating some more of what was on your plate. He had told you that you smelled nice, which was… cool. And he seemed fun enough when he didn’t threaten to kill your loved ones. But where was he going with it all? You had arrived here just two weeks ago and if he truly wanted an important asset, he could’ve looked for Michonne or taken Enid. Children were always a priority. That was kind of a dark thing to think, you realized.

With a sigh, you continued to finish up your meal and drank some of the water in your glass, silently wishing that you had taken the offered lemonade back at the food supply area. The water nowadays did taste pretty bland, not that it was flavorful to begin with. Once done, you simply stood up and exited the kitchen, not bothering to clean up after yourself, since you were certain that the adventure with Negan was far from over. Instead, you headed to the downstairs bathroom, cleaning yourself up and washing your hands, still pretending that all was dandy. You wiped your eyes and brushed your teeth, in case this would be the last time you get to stay home.

You didn’t want to die. Not yet. All these little things brought you joy, they made you feel human. As shitty as the undead apocalypse was – you liked being around for it. You wanted to see Rick again, you wanted to have those stupid sorta-parties, hell, you wanted to gasp each time you found an undamaged pack of gum. Was that too much to ask?

You left the bathroom freshened up and froze in the middle of the hallway, looking onwards at the living room and the now visible Negan. His arm hung off the side, where you had accidentally left it after falling down. His legs were propped firmly against the armrest, the position giving you a feeling of power. Even in his most vulnerable state, he still looked like he could slam dunk you over the wall at the slightest disturbance. His bat was right by him, traces of dried up blood going all the way to the base. Wait.

You snapped your head to the side and saw your own, much cleaner, bat. It was neatly placed against the wall, where you had last had your encounter with Rick. Ideas that were surely dangerous popped into your mind, tempting you to end this nightmare once and for all. It wouldn’t be that hard, with how much Negan underestimated you. But once the Saviors found out, wouldn’t they kill every last one of the Alexandrians? Or would they be content with the death of their ruthless leader?

Your teeth grazed against your bottom lip as you quietly approached the bat, careful not to make any noise. Fingers wrapping around the handle, you lifted it and stroked its polished surface, recounting just how adept you really were at swinging your toy. Would you be just as good with Negan’s bat? An even more bizarre idea crossed your mind, your gaze flicking back to the man. You placed your bat down, then tip toed your way over to where he laid. Your shadow fell against his form as you blocked the sun from outside the windows.

After a few seconds of just staring at him, making sure he was asleep, you bent over, grasping the bloodied bat as if it were an ancient relic. It could all be over, if you just managed to strike this bastard down fast enough. Just as you thought you would lift it up, a gloved hand grabbed yours firmly, squeezing it painfully tight as you were forced to let go, fingers stretching out wide.

“A-Ah…!” You winced aloud, heaving out a breath as soon as the pressure was released, shuffles of Negan moving to sit up reaching your ears.

“This is not a nice fucking way to wake up,” he grunted, rubbing his face with obvious frustration.

“I’m sorry, I—“

You didn’t really finish your sentence, instantly shutting down after the look he sent your way. You could read disappointment in it, which confused you somewhat, since he should’ve expected you to try something. You weren’t all fluff and obedience.

Straightening yourself up, you clenched your fists and looked aside, trying to show as little expression as possible. Negan didn’t need to read you like a card all the damn time. But he seemed to be, because he was very quiet, just staring at you from below. And you could tell even without seeing him.

“I thought we had become friends,” Negan’s voice seemed low, inviting you to give him a quick peek. He continued to watch you, no smile whatsoever. “We even had that little bonding moment, with me catching you and all.”

You couldn’t help but tighten your lips into a scowl, finding him, yet again, very unamusing. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t how friendships worked, but you were pretty certain he knew and was just fucking with you.

He sighed after a few more seconds of silence and fell back against the couch, removing his gloves for whatever reason. That disturbed you. You felt your heart begin to race as you imagined him strangling you, beating you up, doing anything that a psychopath would do with his bare hands. After the story of the incident in the woods, you weren’t sure what to expect from Negan.

“My shoulders ache like a fucking bitch,” the man complained, tossing his gloves aside and moving to undo his jacket. “I don’t know if it’s my damn age or all the shit I have to deal with, but I’d like to be cut some motherfucking slack.”

You watched him with wide eyes, unsure of how to react. He had to be messing with you. You had just, possibly, attempted to kill him and he was still treating you like a misbehaving child. Ignoring you, almost. Back to square one.

Negan groaned as he finally slipped out of the leather jacket and dropped it on the other half of the couch, showing his broad frame and well worked arms. You couldn’t lie, you looked him over again - he seemed completely different without those pieces of his clothing. Like this, he could have been mistaken for a handsome dad, not the leader of the Saviors. You discreetly pinched your other hand at the thought and waited, trying to remain focused until you were sure that danger had passed.

“I used to be a gym coach, you know. Taught kids how to be active and healthy, genuinely fucking cared about how well they did,” Negan spoke, looking at the ground blankly. He seemed to be deep in thought, not fully there, and so you listened. “Had a wife too. Lucille. She was… good. Better than most.”

He stopped, rubbing his nose idly as his gaze wandered. You didn’t understand why he was telling you all of this, but then you remembered – almost everyone you had met in this broken world had told you their story. There was something about you that made people think you would listen to them. They loved knowing that someone cared. Except in this position, you were forced to hear him out.

“I’m not a bad fucking guy,” Negan looked directly at you, leaning forwards in a way that made you want to shrink. “The things I do – I do to keep my people alive. Do you understand?”

You remained quiet for some time, avoiding his eyes. Why did he care about what you thought? There was no way he could redeem himself, change how you saw him. He was a walking terror that refused to give in.

“… Yeah.”

You lied. Maybe he believed it, maybe not, but you didn’t give a flying fuck. As long as he felt justified, he wouldn’t pressure you further to accept his truths.

Negan nodded silently, bringing a hand over to his shoulder to nudge it a few times. The white shirt he wore wrinkled under his palm, catching your attention as there was nothing else to look at. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out words you hadn’t realized had formed in your head.

“I can help.”

He glanced up, his stare testing you. You had to explain yourself, fast.

“I know a few massages to soothe sore muscles and… I just figured…” Your voice cracked at the end and you coughed, resting your hands on your hips. “I can, you know, help.”

His face gradually changed from one full of skepticism to amusement, the signature grin yet again finding his lips.

“Are you always this fucking awkward? God damn,” Negan laughed heartily as he shook his head. “Fine. Show me.”

You jumped to action at his words and headed past him, in order to get to the back of the couch, only to be caught midway by his hand on your wrist.

“Oh no, you’re not gonna leave my sight after that little stunt you tried to pull.”

So that’s the price of your fuck up. Well, could be worse. You gave a nod and retreated back to where you had been, wondering just how you’d get to his shoulders from this angle. There was really no other option than to straddle him and he probably knew it.

Doing your best to remain steady and calm, despite the proximity to Negan, you placed your one knee on the couch, then followed with the other, before setting yourself down on his lap. You were immensely tense, refusing to look directly at him, even though you could tell he was looking at you. And then, your hands moved to one of his shoulders, gently tracing the fabric before you even got to the actual massage. You could feel the muscle underneath, the warmth of his body. Focus.

Slowly, you began to knead the area, your thumbs pushing along with your fingers in a rotating motion. He released a breath and you flinched a little when it hit your skin, the heat of the air very different in comparison to the room’s temperature. You continued to massage him, moving one hand closer to his neck while the other worked downwards, to his arm, then back to the base. Whenever you peeked over to catch a glimpse of his face, he either had his eyes closed or watching you. You’d just pretend that it was involuntary and completely accidental.

As your hands moved to the other shoulder, you realized that Negan had moved his own to rest upon your hips, whether for comfort or security – you weren’t sure. You repeated the same routine as on the previous side, perhaps more intently, hoping to gather all of your attention on the motions. He, however, wasn’t making it easy. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the man tilt his head to the side as his hands moved up, pulling your shirt along just enough to expose your skin. His fingers snuck under the fabric and dragged along your waist, your breathing growing erratic in response.

As soon as your hands separated and moved to each side, providing a more comfortable position, Negan leaned in, his mouth quick to find your neck. At the first sensation of a kiss, you shuddered, releasing a breath as your eyes threatened to close. His scruff tickled your skin, yet did so very little to distract you from the hot tongue dragging along your jawline. You could feel his teeth graze you, nipping the areas that made your body jolt with satisfaction. He was intense, holding you in place firmly as his mouth toyed with your flesh. You were completely paralyzed.

Negan pulled away for just a second, licking his lips as his eyes stared you down, a hunger unlike you’ve ever seen before hidden somewhere deep in them. You couldn’t do anything but keep your lips parted, breathing shakily. It eluded you as to why you were suddenly craving his touch so badly, why you wanted him to do it all over again and then go much further.

“If I shoved my hand down your panties right now…” He murmured deeply, his hand trailing all the way to your back and tugging at the hem of your jeans. “How wet would they be?”

You whimpered soundlessly, doing your best to keep your eyes on his as he pushed his hand dangerously low, your body arching in response. His fingers curled against the skin of your ass and your gaze finally shut closed, legs giving off a quiver as he squeezed tightly. Negan’s husky chuckle rang in your ears, mixing in with the sound of your wild, throbbing heartbeat. You were so fucking aroused, it was maddening. Nothing was clear anymore.

The door creaked as it was opened suddenly, the sound of footsteps entering the room waking you once more. You blinked and looked to the side, panic stirring in your chest as you came to your senses. Rick stood there, panting, his face covered in sweat and traces of blood. He was looking at you. You, with Negan’s hand down your pants and your shirt up to your waist. Your mind shattered. You glanced over to the leader of the Saviors and realized that he showed no surprise whatsoever, smiling at Rick as if he had just won the lottery. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

You jerked away from Negan’s hands and pulled your shirt down, moving as fast as you could away from him. Stumbling, you moved past Rick, refusing to acknowledge the way he called out your name as you paced outside. You had been fucking manipulated. Toyed with, messed with, almost fucked and discarded. Enraged, you screamed out as you rushed towards the armory, your hands tangled in your hair. You wanted to cry. Negan had only wanted to use you as a tool to further break Rick. There was nothing there for you. You were nobody to them, two fucking leaders and their own fucking issues.

Having reached the armory, you panted out deeply, looking to see if any of the guards were still there. Not seeing anyone, you headed right for the guns and sought out your pistol, shoving everything else away in a hurry. You needed to go. Leave this place, leave Rick, leave Negan – distance yourself so that you could no longer be used. Once you found your gun, you tucked it into the holster under your jacket and grabbed a few extra clips of ammo, figuring you’d need as many as possible out there.

It all went by so fast. You were trying to be quick, put in a frenzy by your mental breakdown and the repeating flashbacks of the scene. Finally set, you ran outside and headed for the gate as if a walker had been chasing you, leaving little time to think or consider your surroundings. That’s why you didn’t notice the RV parked in the middle of the road and people surrounding it, watching you as if you were a lunatic. You caught a glimpse of Maggie and Michonne, both of which were getting closer to you, trying to say something. Refusing to acknowledge them, you raced past the RV. That’s when they freaked out and tried to stop you. However, you were quicker. Your hand had reached the bars on the gate and you were ready to pull.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around you and rendered you immobile as you struggled to break free, screaming out in frustration. You kicked and jerked, snapping your head from one side to the other.

“Let me GO!”

They pulled you away and continued to hold you in place even as you continued to fight it. Your energy began to drain, replaced by tears as they formed rivulets down your cheeks. You sobbed weakly, tired and broken by the day’s events.

“It’s okay, it’s okay… Shh…”

A familiar voice soothed you, right in your ear, the arms that held you in place now hugging you from behind. You hesitantly glanced up and saw Rick, even past the blur in your eyes, how desperate and crushed he looked. Your chest tightened and you fought back another onslaught of tears, although unsuccessfully. As you cried, more footsteps approached, all completely silent. Except one.

“Aww… Look at what you did, Rick,” Negan laughed, tapping his favorite bat against the pavement as he came closer. “You really gotta learn how to fucking knock.”

You were too weak to even look at him. Your eyes had closed long ago and you just grabbed onto Rick’s arms, silently pleading him not to let go. And he didn’t.

“You know I can’t leave empty handed, we had a fucking deal. I want your half of everything. And if you have nothing—I can’t fucking profit!”

You winced, the loud yell from the already terrifying man catching you off guard. Rick flinched also, you could sense it, but he remained by you. For a while, it was silent, both the Alexandrians and Negan with his men just standing there.

“I’ll get you the stuff, I promise—just give me more time—“

“I want the girl.”

You froze, a sudden chill overtaking you. Your eyes opened and you turned to look at Negan, your tears still wet on your face. He showed a complete lack of sympathy, staring at you from above. The last straw was his fucking grin.

You reached into your jacket and grabbed your pistol, pointing it at Negan all in a matter of seconds. Where sorrow had been before, there was now rage once more, your arm shaking as you glared at the man.

“Over my dead fucking body,” you hissed, teeth baring.

Rick detached from you and held onto your arm, quietly pleading you to lower your gun. You understood why, it was just that you didn’t give a shit anymore. Negan’s grin grew wider and he laughed, dragging out the noise as he placed the bat over his shoulder.

“That can be done. I can also kill your fucking buddies and have it end there.”

That struck something in you, your grip dwindling as you tried to shake the feeling off. You weren’t going to give yourself to this asshole, you couldn’t, not even if… if…

Rick had gone silent, his lips tight as he stared at the ground, likely feeling completely worthless. He couldn’t do a thing, not to Negan. And he did not want to hurt you either.

You looked at the others and breathed deeply, taking note of everyone’s faces. Your gaze paused on Carl, his one eye showing little emotion, only something unshakeable gleaming inside. That must’ve been how he was back in the forest. You saw Michonne, her genuine worry, and then Maggie. She was pregnant. Judith…

You lowered your pistol and felt all emotion within you disperse, leaving only a plain canvas. Rick breathed out deeply, seemingly relieved, but something was still off. He knew what was about to happen. Negan approached you and picked up your gun, tucking it into his own pants smugly.

“Now, here’s the deal. She comes with me and you lucky sons of bitches get an extension!” He proclaimed, somehow making it seem like a good thing. “And when you finally give me what I’m owed – well, I may or may not give this pretty thing back to Alexandria. That sounds like a good motherfucking deal to me.”

Everyone was silent, as usual. You stared down at the ground for the longest time, deeply wishing that it was all a nightmare. It sure felt like it. Even Rick, who was normally willing to talk, was shut down tight. An arm wrapped around yours and pulled you up to stand roughly, keeping you stable as you shakily adjusted to your own weight.

“I wish you all a pleasant fucking evening!”

Negan flashed a wicked smile down at Rick, right before dragging you along with him towards the gate, his men following behind. You glanced back, mentally saying goodbye to everyone who stood there, and meeting Rick’s eyes as he watched you go. He mouthed something, but you weren’t able to make sense of it, not in the state you were in. Before you could even attempt to understand, the gate shut and you were closed off from Alexandria, Negan’s firm grip guiding you over to one of their cars.


	4. The Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the delay! This chapter was a rough one to write, but I somehow managed it. Warning - I will be trying out a name for the main character. If you like it, or don't, please tell me so I can make changes. Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Oh, and expect NSFW content the next chapter.

The window’s reflection forced you to face yourself, acknowledge the dried up tears on your cheeks and the red spots beneath your eyes. Not an hour had passed since you had left the place you considered home, the looks your friends had given you still deeply imprinted into your mind. Flashing one by one as you stared out at the trees and the passing road, cars, walkers. 

You didn’t understand how you could have consciously rested with Negan, listened to his heartbeat as if he were a regular person. There was nothing normal about him. He was a cunning, deceptive man, willing to do whatever it took to save his people and pursue his own agenda. His charm helped him, but that didn’t mean you just had to accept it. 

The car’s engine whirred softly around you, creating ambient noise that made it easier to ignore the silence between you and the leader of your captors. You hadn’t dared to look back at him, not after the scene in Alexandria. Not after what he had said to you, after kissing your neck as if you were his. Your chest stirred with newborn anger and you tightened your lips into a frown, sitting back into your seat. 

“Why are you doing this?” The question slipped out, quiet, but audible enough for Negan to hear. In a way, you already knew what the answer would be. That didn’t mean you couldn’t ask, now that he held you hostage and your life had some value. 

You peeked towards him, finally. He was focused on the road ahead, his gloved hands on the steering wheel. Your gaze moved to his shoulder and lingered there, softening as memories of comfort flooded your head. The little moments of ease were so precious at a time like this, yet they were becoming harder and harder to find. It was disheartening to realize that you were likely not going to be at peace for a while.

“Because your buddy Rick killed a lot of my men, sweetheart,” the response finally came, low in tone. “And I want to see him fucking break for it.”

You winced soundlessly, your gaze drifting aside. The answer was more honest than you had expected, but at least now your suspicions had been confirmed. Had you more energy, you’d likely try to retort somehow, test how just much he needed you around... But you were sore, sad and your spirit had shattered long ago.

“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that look.”

You could hear the mockery in his tone. Didn’t even need to look his way to know that he was smiling, enjoying how you squirmed in his presence and mentally resented him. For a second, you wondered whether he was born this way, fucked up and twisted, or if the apocalypse had gotten to his head. Honestly, it didn’t matter.

Once again, the car was quiet. You did your best to focus on something other than the inevitable imprisonment, whether it was counting walkers or checking the mirror in order to see the cars following you. There was a school bus and two more vehicles, from what you could see - which was a lot of men for a place like Alexandria. Maybe Negan had no damn clue what would wait for him there.

The sun was setting too. In another hour or so, it would surely be night time already. And that was not a good time to drive around during, seeing as walkers could easily get stuck in the vehicles and halt the entire operation. You wondered whether he understood this. 

A click sounded out in the car and you lifted a brow, although were not interested enough to look back at Negan and his smug face. He was probably trying to grab your attention, anyways. Make “friends”, as he did back in the settlement. 

Your thoughts dispersed entirely when music began to play. It was disturbingly sweet and sounded like something out of the 80s. You lifted yourself up and away from the window, turning to stare at the driving man with a definitely confused expression. This was a whole new level of discomfort, and if that was his goal, he was getting there. 

The man tapped his fingers on the wheel along with the beat, humming as he glanced your way, smiling. He was making it really hard to remember that he was a murderer. You shook your head and sighed out softly, bringing yourself back to the window. 

The ride afterwards was somewhat more bearable. The music was obnoxiously loud from time to time, but at least Negan wasn’t forcing you to talk. Maybe he knew that you’d just flip him off if he tried, or maybe he was decent enough not to bother you after that mess.

You arrived at the destination not too long after that. 

A tall metal fence with reinforcements welcomed you, the gates in the middle parting open as soon as the guards recognized Negan in the driver’s seat. You shifted in your spot and clenched your fists, taking in the incredible security of the Savior base. Everyone in sight had weapons, guns. There were countless more fences around each area and guards were patrolling the surrounding buildings. 

The car stopped next to the other parked vehicles. Negan didn’t wait to step outside, fresh air rushing in as you watched him approach another man. This one had longer hair, somewhat like Daryl, except light in color. And his face... Half of it was covered in scar tissue. He must’ve sensed you looking, because in just seconds, his eyes were on yours, inspecting you from afar. 

You jerked your gaze aside and opened the door, refusing to wait any longer even if it meant you’d have to get shot. You noticed that the sun was setting, as you had predicted, and the warmth that was out before was now turning into a chill. Thankfully, your jacket provided just enough heat. 

Arms crossed, you continued to look around, partially trying to listen in on the conversation between Negan and his lackey. You could hear the world “girl” being used a few times and assumed that they were speaking of you. You wondered what this meant for your well-being. Would they start tossing you around, shove you in a cell, put a gun to your face? It made sense, so you prepared mentally, trying to be as strong as you could for the people in Alexandria. 

A hand gripped your shoulder and you flinched, turning to face whoever had come up to you from behind. The man Negan had been talking to. Before he could begin to speak, you glanced past him and at the leader himself, entering one of the buildings without so much as another word to you. Figures.

“Don’t worry about him, you’re gonna come with me,” he mumbled, somewhat forcefully guiding you towards the neighboring building. You could already tell he was nothing like Negan, but if he had earned the man’s respect - he was no joke either. 

“What’s your name?” You attempted to ask, moving along without any struggle and hoping that it would earn you some kindness. Bit by bit, you’d find out what’s to come. 

He was reluctant to respond at first, shoving you ahead harder, but once you moved on your own complacently, the man leveled with you. 

“Dwight.”

You smiled softly and looked back just a little, trying to pretend like you were someone else in hopes that he’d buy it. Carol did that all the time and, from what you saw, it worked like a charm. Just had to do it right. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Dwight. I’m Mila.” 

The pleasantries had to stop for a bit as you passed through the door, entering what seemed to be a hallway. From the looks of it, their base was a factory, so this had to be an office building. No one else was around.

Getting another nudge to the back, you moved onward. You passed several doors, but one was open and you managed to sneak a peek at what was inside. These were rooms, probably meant for the higher ranking people in the community. That had to be it, since the surplus of comfort-related items was a luxury these days. Besides, Negan didn’t seem to be the giving kind. 

“Hey.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, as usual, and glanced back at Dwight. He motioned for you to enter the room ahead. Nodding once, you opened the door and stepped inside, only to be a little taken aback by the decor. It was small, yet had enough space for an antique dresser, a matching queen sized bed, a bookshelf and a TV. There was a painting hanging on the wall, a mirror on the opposite side. And, just to top it all off, the bed sheets were obviously freshly washed, whiter than the last snow you had seen. There was a bundle of CDs on the dresser, too.

Careful not to touch anything, you wandered towards the center of the room and turned back to the man, uncertain why he had sent you here. 

“Negan has assigned you this room. You will be staying here until it is decided what role you will have in our community.” 

His tone was so matter-of-fact that you couldn’t help but get a little suspicious, very doubtful that all this luxury didn’t come with a price. 

“Dwight... What does Negan want from me?” You asked, keeping your voice low and sincere. If that wasn’t enough, you made sure to step just a little closer, your expression changing along with your plea. “Just tell me and I promise not to bother you anymore. Please.” 

He was silent for a good while, eyeing you up and down as if scanning you for bullshit. Or something else. Then sighed through his nose. 

“I don’t fucking know. He’ll probably ask you to be his wife or something.”

“His wife?” You stressed the latter, squinting.

“Yeah... One of his wives,” he murmured, something making him avert his gaze almost immediately. “He has a few.”

You were awestruck. This was not a development you had expected at all. Sure, he had turned you into a mess back at your house, but you thought that was all a game to fuck with Rick. If this was really his goal, then... 

“Who the hell does he think he is?!” You blurted out angrily, unable to hold it back at all. Dwight didn’t seem impressed, as if he had seen this reaction before. What if he had? That was so fucked up.

“I gotta go,” he turned to the door and stepped out, holding it open for just a moment as he stared your way. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

The man then left, leaving you alone in the room. You were still reeling from the new information, unsure of how to take it. The fact that he had more than one wife, at this very time in the post-apocalypse, told you of what kind of man he was. You recalled the moment on the couch and shuddered, feeling unclean. There was no way you’d accept his offer, if it came to it. Ever.

Shaking the feeling off, you grunted in frustration and looked at the small window near the ceiling, taking in the last glimpses of sunlight for the day. It would be night time very soon. And you were pretty tired. The bed was kinda welcoming, now that you looked at it. Yet sleeping in an enemy territory without some kind of weapon around was certain trouble. 

You decided to look around the room for anything that you could use in case of emergency. Drawer after drawer, you found nothing but towels, sheets, clothes, useless items meant for entertainment. Pens weren’t sharp enough and paper-cuts wouldn’t kill a man. Even if they stung like a bitch. 

The room had been wiped clean of any dangerous objects. If only you still had your trusty gun or that stupid bat... You ran a hand down your face and rubbed your eyes, leaning back against the dresser tiredly. Your consciousness wouldn’t be of use much longer, so no point in waiting around. 

Slowly, you made your way to the bed and dropped onto it, exhaling deeply as the mattress creaked beneath you. It was nowhere as comfy as your own bed in Alexandria, but it would do. While normally you’d attempt to undress, that seemed like a shit idea at the moment, so you allowed yourself to close your eyes and drift away. You trusted yourself to be ready when the moment comes, even in sleep. 

When your mind finally switched back on, booting up like one of those old laptops back in the day, you no longer felt weary. You licked your lips, sensing the dryness of your mouth, then hummed. You could hear birds chirping somewhere out in the distance. And you felt warm, cozy under the blanket...

Hold on.

Your eyes snapped open and you looked at yourself. You were tucked under a blanket, your jacket off and placed on the edge of the bed. Feeling your heartbeat spike, you breathed in and out quickly, immediately scanning the room for any other person. It was empty. Relieved, but not calm, you investigated further, slipping out of the bed first. 

There was no trace left, no note, no nothing. You could only guess as to who it could’ve been - and the only suspects were either Dwight or Negan. Neither were very comforting options. You hated the feeling of vulnerability. Cursing quietly under your nose, you grabbed your jacket and slipped it on.

The door wasn’t locked, thankfully, and you exited without any problem. The hallways were still empty and eerily soundless, as if abandoned. Maybe no one had taken these rooms yet, but that was unlikely. Judging by the sunlight outside, it was probably about noon. You slept like a zombie, as expected.

Following what you could remember passing the day before, you made your way to the exit and breathed out, happy to get some fresh air at last. You paused for a moment, noting how no one was outside, except for a few guards by the main fence. It was probably breakfast time, right? The thought made your stomach churn. 

You weren’t sure where to go from there, since the only building you somewhat knew was the one you had stayed at. The rest were... confusing. On one side, you could see a garden, the red tomatoes catching your eye instantly. They definitely had workers that knew how to grow these things. Looking to the other direction, you noticed the door Negan had gone through before. You weren’t really willing to meet the guy this early on, but it seemed like the only safe place to try. 

Dirt shuffled beneath your feet as you walked towards the other building, peeking around in case some guard assumed you to be an intruder and shot you on accident. Yes, that was a valid fear. You didn’t know whether Negan had told of you to others. Once by the door, you opened it, carefully, and headed inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. Just in case. 

What you saw was a large area, reminiscent of a market. There were people around every table, one seemingly giving out food while the others took it. And there was a lot of food. More than you had seen in a very long time. Jars full of jam, bread, vegetables, even meat. You froze in one place, just staring at everything like a child. It was a little too much to process. Some people noticed you and stared for a few seconds, as if they knew who you are already, then went back to work. 

The sound of heels caught your attention and you blinked in surprise, looking to the right of where you stood. There was a metal staircase. And soon enough, a woman began to step downstairs, the noise you had heard growing louder and confirming that she was the source. You could tell that she was unlike the others. She wore a nice short dress that openly displayed her legs and her shoes were not meant for running. 

She saw you too, stopping in her tracks and inspecting you much like you had her. Her gaze was intrusive, making you feel slightly worse about how you looked in comparison. You didn’t need to check yourself to know that you were dirty, in boyish clothing and boots that were far from delicate. You were a survivor. She was, likely, someone’s prized possession.

An awkward smile spread across your lips as you nodded a greeting her way, then continued on to the food tables, quite eager to get something. You weren’t sure they’d give you anything, since you were a prisoner of sorts, but if they had provided you with a room like that - a fitting meal was probably waiting too. You stood in the back of the formed line and sighed quietly, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket. 

“Hey.”

You glanced back at the gentle voice. It was the lady again. She seemed confused for a second, then looked at the man serving food, as if mentally telling him he was doing something wrong. He gave a look at you, then back at her - and something in him clicked, his face showing clear panic. The man motioned quickly for you to step forward.

Hesitant, you did just that, shrinking a little under the eyes of the others waiting in the line. Why did it feel like they knew something you didn’t? The fellow handed you a plate with a prepared meal, much better than the ones he was giving to others. And it felt warm, too. Obviously, you took it, but not before murmuring a quick ‘thank you’. 

You wandered over back to the lady and she just nudged her head in another direction, as if telling you to follow her. Not needing to be told twice, you went along with the woman, soon finding yourself next to a table, completely devoid of people - even though there were probably many that needed seating.

She sat down and you did too, on the opposite side. This all felt like a contract with the devil. Eat the meal and feel the fiery pits of hell burn you. Well, at least you’d have a full stomach, if it came to that. You took the fork placed neatly onto the plate and idly picked at the food. 

“You’re Mila, right?” The lady finally asked, leaning forward a little. When you glanced up, she looked much friendlier than before. You were certain that she had an angle to play in this, so you just nodded and continued to poke the food. 

“I’m Sherry,” she continued, folding her arms on the table delicately. “Negan’s wife.”

Your hand stilled, eyes lifting to stare at the woman. She was one of them. You could understand why, Sherry was definitely prettier than most you could find out in the world of undead, but... Why did it feel like she wasn’t happy whatsoever?

“How do you like it here?” She tried to make the conversation lighter, probably seeing how you reacted to what she had said. You weren’t afraid of her, nor were you uncomfortable - you just felt bad knowing that she had to be... owned by Negan. 

“It’s okay,” you responded, smiling a little at her. “Definitely not the worst place I’ve been to.”

Sherry smiled in return and nodded knowingly, allowing you to take a few bites of the food before you continued the conversation. The meal was warm, prepared no longer than thirty minutes ago. They had went out of their way for this and you wouldn’t take it for granted.

“Why am I being treated this well?” You asked out of nowhere, wondering if she would give you the same response as Dwight the night before. The woman glanced aside, her fingers curling a little.

“Negan needs you for something, in good shape.” 

That was a little vague. You lifted a brow and hummed, leaning back in your seat as you pondered the situation. If he truly expected you to be his wife, he was out of luck. You’d eat his food and sleep in a nice bed all you wanted, but there was no way you’d allow him to mess with you again. He had gone too far.

“I’m a great runner.” 

“I don’t think he’s gonna let you out of here.”

You looked up, cautious. She knew more than she was letting on. After taking a few more bites, you pushed the plate aside and crossed your arms. It was easy to read her expression - she was tense. Like she wanted to warn you, but couldn’t. 

“I can protect myself, Sherry.”

She wasn’t going to respond, her eyes wandering over to the staircase. Negan was entering the area, his posture as easy-going as ever, with his bat swinging in his hand along with his movements. It felt like the whole place ceased to run, every single person looking at him as if he were the lord himself. Hell, maybe he was. 

And then, they began to kneel. Shocked at the sight, you looked at Sherry, but she showed little surprise. Only remorse. What the hell was going on?

Negan scoped out the place, looking for something, before his gaze stopped on you. He was a damn predator, his eyes ferocious enough to pierce you through. But you persisted, glaring back at him. That evoked a grin from the man. He approached you casually, ignoring the countless people that were still on their knees. 

The first thing he did once by the table was lean towards Sherry and kiss her, so intensely that you could tell his body weight was pushing her downwards. You didn’t know why, but you hated that, looking aside at the others. Your chest swelled with bitterness. 

“Mmh... You’re always a sight for sore fucking eyes, Honey,” his voice rumbled, as deep and husky as you remembered it. Sherry only panted out in response, obviously taken aback by the kiss. It wasn’t a normal occurrence, so what was he playing at?

You finally looked back, trying to seem as unimpressed as possible, because you were. Open displays of affection like that grossed you out. And when it was Negan and this woman, it disgusted you more than it normally would. The man met your stare with his own and smiled, stepping slightly closer to tower above you menacingly. 

“You know, I thought we could go play some baseball together,” he began, cheerfully. “You did have that awesome bat back at your place and I just have a fucking feeling you knew how to use it. Good thing you didn’t, huh?” 

A low chuckle escaped Negan as he looked at his own weapon, swinging it upwards to rest on his shoulder. The blood from before seemed to have been washed off. Maybe he was a neat freak. 

“Guess what her name is.”

He tilted his head, grinning down at you as you glanced at Sherry. She was very still, staring at her own hands as they fidgeted with one another. When you looked back at the man, he was less amused, probably irritated that you felt confident enough to take your eyes off of him for even a moment.

“Lucille,” he answered his own question, no longer smiling. You recognized the name from the story he had told you before. 

“It’s a pretty name,” you spoke up for once, calmly. You met his eyes, seeking out rage in them, but saw nothing. Not even sadness. He frowned, his gaze jumping to the others in the room. 

“Let’s go. I don’t have much fucking time to waste.”

You stood up from where you sat and gave a quick smile at Sherry, hoping that she would be okay. She seemed like a nice lady, probably just stuck in a shitty position. At least the benefits were nice. 

As soon as Negan began to move, you followed, a little curious to see where he would take you. You didn’t have much left to lose and he wouldn’t kill a hostage that was still of use to him, so you were pretty secure. You hoped. 

Once outside the building, the man paused, shifting in his spot as he grabbed something from his jacket. It was a cap, similar to those that baseball players wore. He turned and approached you, smiling proudly as he placed it on your head firmly. Backwards. 

“Wouldn’t want to cover up your pretty face.”

Smooth. You gave him a look and he just grinned, walking away towards another area. You were nothing like his wife, so why the hell was he trying to get through to you? He definitely didn’t feel sorry and you weren’t planning on accepting him as your husband. But he didn’t know that yet. 

After the slight pause, you jolted from your spot to follow him, catching up pretty quickly. He had led the two of you into an open area behind the main buildings, secluded from the anyone else. There didn’t seem to be any guards around, but the fence was reinforced with metal plates, so it didn’t seem like an escape was possible anyways. 

You scanned the surroundings as you waited for Negan’s next command, feeling pretty relaxed. So far, he had shown no interest in actually hurting you. He had manipulated you by using the lives of your friends, not that it was any better. But it worked. 

When you looked at him, Negan was heading towards you with a different bat, seemingly new. So, you were actually going to play. Amused, you released a soft chuckle and shook your head, but accepted the bat handed to you. You wondered why your outlook on things had changed so much in such a short amount of time. Maybe it was the lack of danger. Or maybe the place wasn’t as bad as you had imagined it to be. 

“Alright, sunshine,” he called out from a little further away, tossing the ball up idly. “I want to see how hard you can swing.”

You steadied yourself and got into position, gripping the bat like you always did. The handle felt different from what you were used to, but you weren’t currently faced with walkers. You could still hit a ball. Probably. 

As he prepared to throw, you felt your heartbeat thrum with intensity, adrenaline rushing to your brain. It felt exciting to be in control again. To release the built up energy within you, to--

You swung the bat, violently, exhaling with a loud grunt. The ball launched backwards on impact, flying past Negan and into the fence faster than either of you could see. The landing made the whole fence rattle roughly, but aside from that, the strike was successful. 

“God fucking damn! That was a good motherfucking hit!” Negan seemed excited, stressing each curse word like a giddy teenager. Sometimes the amount of vulgarities from his mouth made you think he was immature, but you were smarter than to let that be known. Besides, it was kinda funny.

You laughed aloud, breathing deeply after you had used that much force. It was a lot more than what you used to beat up walkers, but in a way, you wanted to impress your captor. 

He approached you again, this time walking in stride. And, in just seconds, you were no longer where you stood, being pushed back against the back of the building. Your back hit the wall harshly, all breath escaping your lungs as you tried to understand what was happening. 

Negan was right in front of you, his expression glowing with desire as he eyed you, up and down. Your hands were locked under his, pressed back against the hard surface behind you. This was exhilarating. Again, you could sense all clear thought slipping, only his intimate presence flooding your mind. 

“Mila...”

“I don’t want to be your wife.”

It rushed out. You couldn’t control it. That was the only thing that entered your head after he had slammed you like this and you didn’t have enough focus to stop yourself. 

He was very silent, staring at you with an unreadable look. His breath was hot, tingling your skin, and his grip felt numbingly good on your arms. You wondered how he would react, now that he knew how you felt. Now that his plan was crushed before he could even properly execute it. 

Negan frowned, leaning closer to you and your parted lips. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his body. His mouth moved towards your ear and you gulped, closing your eyes as his lower half pressed against yours.

_“Then you will be my mistress.”_


End file.
